


Rocking Around the Christmas Tree

by zombiekittiez



Series: College Sheiths [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Communication, Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Gingerbread Houses, Looking toward the future, M/M, Taking Steps, holiday fic, paladin christmas party, trick or sheith sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:08:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28227399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombiekittiez/pseuds/zombiekittiez
Summary: “How’s it coming?” Shiro murmurs where he’s holding two walls together for a moment to dry.“I dunno,” Keith admits. “I’ve never made one of these before.”Instead of showing impatience or irritation or pity the way Keith had always expected, Shiro is Shiro about it. His eyes brighten in honest happiness to have one more shiny new thing to try with Keith. It shouldn’t shock him so much, not after living together half a year and dating for a third of that besides, but Keith can’t help it. Maybe one day his first instinct won’t be to hide the soft uncertain parts of himself, but even then he’s sure that welcoming, loving part of Shiro will never fail to surprise and delight him.“Let’s stay classic, then.” Shiro suggests. “A gingerbread home for gingerbread boyfriends.”
Relationships: Allura/Lance (Voltron), Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Series: College Sheiths [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2067795
Comments: 22
Kudos: 73





	Rocking Around the Christmas Tree

“I don’t think I’m doing this right,” Keith says with a frown. 

“What’s up?” Shiro asks easily, coming up to drape along Keith’s back from behind, resting his chin against the top of Keith’s head. 

“I don’t know.” Keith’s face crumples in frustration. “These turned out so dry and the icing tastes funny.” 

“We could call Hunk,” Shiro offers, one hand already at his hip pocket digging for his phone, the other curling possessively around Keith’s middle. Keith fights back the urge to turn around and bury his face in Shiro’s chest. That tends to end one way- and they’re expecting guests soon. 

Keith shakes his head decisively. “No. Everyone’s already on the way and it’s not like it makes a difference. There’s no time to fix everything now.” 

“‘Course there is,” Shiro disagrees easily. “We’ve got nothing but time.” 

It’s not technically true- the first annual Gingerbread House Party is due to kick off within the hour and baking the panels took the better part of the previous day. Keith’s not winning any prizes here, but the cooking course he’s been taking Wednesdays (now with Shiro in tow!) had left him with marginal confidence that has slowly ebbed away the closer the date approached. 

But also there’s no intergalactic war, no threat of sirens and last minute missions. It’s four days before Christmas and all the people Keith’s ever given a damn about still on this earthly mortal coil will be making their appearances over the next week. If it really is a disaster, Hunk can give him a hand and they can try try again while everyone’s in town.

“You’re right,” Keith admits grudgingly, which earns him a kiss to the ear. He squirms- it’s always a delight to receive Shiro’s affection, one that has not lessened in the slightest since their pumpkiny adventures, but a kiss to the ear is a strange sensation nonetheless. Shiro chuckles low in his chest- pleased, no doubt, that his distraction technique has been so effective. 

“Go change up, you’re covered in powdered sugar.” Shiro suggests. “I’ll clean up a little down here and keep an eye on the door.” 

Keith heads back to the room- _their_ room, now- Kosmo has completely taken over the second bedroom, though Keith still uses the desk sometimes. Mostly, though, he likes to sit on the floor in the living room, spreading out his art supplies and working dreamily while Shiro takes up the couch hammering on his laptop. They meander their way through movies according to top ten lists for the years they missed in space or racing to make it there. It’s wonderfully, frighteningly domestic. 

Keith takes his time for once, scrubbing up in the shower and then blow drying out his hair, smoothing it back with a little product. A little pigeon had let it slip that Lance had bet he could take an unflattering picture of Keith at their get together and Keith won’t give him the satisfaction of being naturally scrubby. He pulls a white sweater over a red collared shirt before heading back out into the living room, following the swell of familiar voices. 

Pidge waves cheerfully while Shiro uses his prosthetic to crack open a couple bottles of the cider Matt has brought. Keith waves back, wandering into the kitchen and stopping dead at the sight. Hunk has picked up one of the gingerbread people and is turning them to and fro. With a solemn expression, he dunks the head into a bowl of frosting nearby as if giving the poor gingerbread person a swirlie, then bites it neatly in two. 

“I know it’s dry,” Keith says defensively. “And the frosting tastes weird. I messed it up somehow.” 

Hunk, instead of replying immediately, chews thoughtfully, like a rich SOB at a wine tasting. He does not, thankfully, spit the gingerbread out. 

“Perfect!” Hunk beams. 

Keith’s eyes narrow suspiciously. 

Hunk raises his hands defensively, waving the decapitated gingerbread person between them. “I mean it! Gingerbread has to be a little dry or the walls will buckle. It’s a good balance of spices.” 

“The frosting is gross,” Keith says, a little sulkily. 

“It’s royal icing,” Hunk explains. “The egg whites have to dry, and then it’ll be perfect. You used almond extract and lemon juice?” Keith nods. “It’s nice. Nutty and refreshing. You’re the star baker.” 

“I’m the only baker this time,” Keith mutters, feeling his face go red. 

“You’re my star every day,” Shiro says, walking into the room and handing around ciders. Hunk _awwws_ as Shiro drops a casual kiss on Keith’s cheek. It’s as wonderful as it is mortifying. Keith had never thought he’d be a PDA kind of guy, but he’s unable to fully contain his joy at Shiro’s obvious affection, even just in their little group. It’s like the last little bit of confirmation he didn’t even know he needed. Shiro really _does_ want him and doesn’t care who knows it. 

A bright flash fills the room. 

“Aw, gross.” Lance complains half heartedly, looking down at the Polaroid that ejects from the camera hung around his neck. “Here, you look stupid.” 

Keith, eyebrow raised, takes the picture, shaking it a bit to speed up the chemical development. “Hello to you too,” he says dryly. 

Allura, resplendent in a shimmery sort of dress-sweater combo, shoves the basket of decorative candies at Lance, stepping up to hug them all in turn when her arms are free. She pauses to whisper something to Shiro that makes him blink and flush, smiling over at Keith a little shyly. 

“How’s the picture?” Allura asks, once she lets go of Keith. It’s sweet- Shiro’s eyes are closed as he leans in, Keith’s expression is one of pleased surprise. “Very flattering,” she tells Keith pointedly and Lance scoffs. 

“He’s next to Shiro so of course he’s gonna look good.” 

“That’s a neat piece of tech. Can I see it?” Keith asks politely. 

Lance unhooks the strap from his neck, handing it over. “It’s an antique,” he says proudly. “Christmas parents from the folks. Finding spare film is a real pain, though.” 

Keith hums agreeably, then lifts the camera and points it. Allura, with the poise of her position and her natural beauty, shifts effortlessly into a perfect modeling pose. Lance… does not. 

“Cheese,” Keith deadpans, clicking the camera. 

“Hey! I wasn’t ready!” Lance squawks. Keith hands the camera back over while they wait for the picture to form. 

“Wow, Allura, you look amazing.” Shiro says, trading sly glances with Keith. 

“Allura always looks amazing!” Lance says valiantly. 

“Good idea with the camera, Lance, I’m putting these on the fridge- make sure to get Pidge and Matt in the next one.” Keith steps back to admire his display- Hunk, soft eyed, watching Shiro and Keith’s moment of sweetness in one picture, charming Allura and Lance, mouth half open and one eye squidged shut against the sudden camera flash in the other. 

“You suck,” Lance mutters without heat. 

“Merry Christmas,” Keith says, sacrificing his cider in the name of friendship. Lance takes it and his camera and goes to stalk the elusive camera-avoiding Pidge. 

“I’m gonna organize,” Hunk announces. “You’ve got a pretty good set up, and if we split into teams…” He ushers Shiro and Keith out of their own kitchen to set up the gingerbread stations. 

“Oh no,” Matt groans as they walk in. “I forgot the white elephant present!” 

Pidge smacks his arm. “I told you to check before we left the house.” 

“I thought I had,” Matt says with a frown, rubbing his shoulder. “You nerd, why does that still hurt?” 

“Once a paladin, always a paladin,” Pidge shrugs. “Anyway, that’s fine, isn’t it, Kosmo?” Pidge asks the space wolf who is the size of a sheltie today, to keep from getting underfoot. “It’s the one like this.” Pidge picks up her own neatly wrapped gift from the table and gives it a shake. Kosmo sniffs it before disappearing in a near silent blip of ozone. 

“Where…” Keith begins to ask but then Kosmo reappears, husky sized to accommodate the large package in his mouth. 

“Good boy,” Pidge praises while Matt drops the drool covered package on the table with a mildly grossed out expression. The camera flashes. 

“Wash your hands!” Hunk calls from the kitchen. 

“How _does_ he do that?” Lance wonders, shaking his head and lowering his camera. “Oh, check it out, Shiro, this one’s really good.” Shiro leans over to look and then laughs. 

“This one is definitely going on the fridge,” he says, amused. 

“Screw you,” Matt says good naturedly on his way to the bathroom. 

“How did he know where to go?” Keith wonders. 

“What do you mean? Kosmo’s over all the time.” Pidge says, confused. 

“He is?” Shiro is equally surprised. 

“Yeah, we see him, what, once a week at least?” Lance asks Allura who nods. “Hunk’s the favorite, though. Kosmo’s always over there begging for lunch.” 

“What did you think he did all day?” Allura asks, surprised. 

“Important space wolf business,” Keith says vaguely. 

“Well now you know.” Matt shrugs. “I think he’s checking up on his pack.” 

“Your pack,” Shiro murmurs, nudging Keith’s arm. 

“ _Our_ pack,” Keith corrects, curling his fingers around the crook of Shiro’s arm. They gaze at each other for a long warm moment. The camera flashes again. 

“Gross,” Lance says, smiling at them. 

“Alright!” Hunk calls from the kitchen. “Paladins, assemble! The First Annual Gingerbread Build Off is about to commence!” 

“I call Shiro,” Keith says immediately. 

“You would,” Pidge scoffs. “C’mon, Matt, our structural knowledge has got this one in the _bag._ ” 

“You just wait, mullet. Altean architecture for the _win!_ ” Lance brags, letting Allura push him through into the next room. 

The next few hours are a flurry of activity. Pidge and Matt, despite their technical prowess, devolve into squabbling about their gingerbread laboratory that sets them back. 

“Retro futurism all the way,” Matt proclaims, waving a gingerbread man decorated with a white piped labcoat and wild marshmallow hair in the style of Doc Brown. 

“Nu-uh, grandpa, we’re making robots!” Pidge argues, flinging the silver dusted pearl sprinkles across the table with an errant elbow. 

“We already _make_ robots! In real life!” 

Allura and Lance’s elaborate castle, edged in scalloped pink and blue is lovely and intricate. Lance preens insufferably while Allura works tirelessly on the gumdrop gardens. 

“How’s it coming?” Shiro murmurs where he’s holding two walls together for a moment to dry. 

“I dunno,” Keith admits. “I’ve never made one of these before.” 

Instead of showing impatience or irritation or pity the way Keith had always expected, Shiro is Shiro about it. His eyes brighten in honest happiness to have one more shiny new thing to try with Keith. It shouldn’t shock him so much, not after living together half a year and dating for a third of that besides, but Keith can’t help it. Maybe one day his first instinct won’t be to hide the soft uncertain parts of himself, but even then he’s sure that welcoming, loving part of Shiro will never fail to surprise and delight him. 

“Let’s stay classic, then.” Shiro suggests. “A gingerbread home for gingerbread boyfriends.” 

It’s a squat little house, with four walls and a slanting triangular roof. The chimney gives them a bit of trouble but they figure it out in the end. 

“What’s that?” Keith asks curiously when Shiro leans over the top carefully with the piping bag. 

“You’ll see,” he grins. “You’re in charge of out front.” 

Keith dutifully works to frost two gingerbread men vaguely. If one has longer hair and one a floof of white, well, that’s his own business. He has a little trouble anchoring them into place so Keith digs through the odds and ends until he cobbles together a red and black frosted motorcycle that the two lean against at the perfect angle. 

“There!” Shiro says with great satisfaction, leaning back. He’s piped delicate black lines all over the tops and trim of the house, then gently pressed tiny rounded sprinkles all along them, so that it perfectly resembles Christmas lights. 

Keith whistles appreciatively. “That’s so clever. You’re so good at everything.” 

“Not everything,” Shiro murmurs, blushing a bit. 

“ _Everything,_ ” Keith says again, raising an eyebrow. 

“Ugh.” Lance’s voice snaps them out of the moment. He’s studying Keith’s handwork with a scowl. “How the hell did you get that bike so detailed? It’s like… anatomically correct!” 

“It’s probably the most intricately decorated piece of your whole display,” Pidge agrees, abandoning Matt to hold the drying corners on his lonesome. 

“I like bikes,” Keith shrugs. 

“It really is a perfect, edible replication. You even got the striped paint job down pat. What'd you use, a toothpick?” Shiro asks, leaning against Keith when he nods assent. “All that art is really paying off.” 

“Art?” Allura asks, interested. 

“I’ve been taking some classes,” Keith admits. 

“Is that something you’re thinking about seriously?” Matt asks, abandoning the lab which is mostly taken up by a gingerbread monstrosity that might be a giant robot or a Delorean at an angle… hard to tell. 

“Yeah,” Keith says, surprising himself. Shiro is surprised too- he squeezes Keith a little around the waist before letting go. 

“We’ve got a friend who owns a gallery- my tech assistant’s girlfriend, Maria? I could put in a word.” Matt offers.

“Maybe,” Keith says softly. 

“Offer stands,” Matt says with a shrug. “No pressure.” 

Clearing his throat importantly, Hunk steps back from his own workspace. To give him a handicap, he’d had to work solo with only Kosmo as a helper to fetch supplies and clear things out of the way, shrunk down to the size of a teacup poodle. He’s also had to work on a cutting board balanced over the sinks because the counter space was taken up by the other teams. 

None of that matters. He wins by a landslide. 

“Oh Hunk…” Allura’s eyes sparkle with emotion. 

“It’s us,” Pidge says, shocked. “How?! That’s so complex!” 

A mini Castle of Lions rests with every gingerbread Paladin outside, frosted in their little white uniforms and striped with their coordinating color. 

“I made a few sketches before,” Hunk says modestly. “Just theoretical stuff.” 

“Never underestimate a brilliant engineer and a master chef,” Shiro says warmly just as the front door chimes. “Ah, that’ll be dinner. I’ll get the door.” 

“I’ll help,” Keith says quickly. 

“Get back here, Keith! Okay, so Hunk is first place, we all knew that was gonna be the case, but we’re second! Admit it, you ate our dust this challenge-” 

Lance pats the counter in front of his castle importantly and the sudden, slight vibration is enough to make the castle quiver, shake, and collapse in a sudden heap of broken cookie and puddled frosting. 

“Yeah, I thought that might happen,” Hunk says sagely. “Too top heavy.”

“Not structurally sound,” Pidge agrees. 

“Weak bonding agent,” Matt concurs. 

Keith hurries after Shiro, helping him take the assorted boxes from the delivery driver. 

“Let’s set up in here,” Shiro suggests. “Not much room left in the kitchen now anyway.” 

“It’ll be a big clean up,” Keith notes. 

Shiro shrugs. “Worth it. Don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” Keith agrees softly. “Thanks.” 

Shiro shakes his head as he helps Keith set out the food and open packs of paper plates, napkins and utensils. “Thanks for letting me be here. With you.” 

“Shiro.” Keith pauses. “I…” He swallows. “I think I’m serious about it. The art thing. I want to make something instead of tearing things apart, you know? And not like… survival stuff, like the Blades. I want make something… nice. Something just to make it.” 

Shiro nods. “I had a feeling,” he says. “So I guess we should look into more intensive art programs, after we finish up at the community college.” 

“What about you?” 

“I like working with physical therapy and prosthetic adaptation,” Shiro says, eyes dropping down to his arm almost unconsciously. He opens and closes his hand between them. “I think I want to help amputees. People like me.” 

And it’s not the time or the place, with their friends one room over and dinner two seconds from ready to go, but Keith slips anyway. 

“Do you think we’ll stay together?” He asks wistfully. 

Shiro stares. 

“Pizza?” Matt laughs. “You really are a couple of college students.” 

“It’s the authentic experience,” Shiro says, tearing his eyes away from Keith. “Get everybody started for us?”

“Sure. Everything okay?” Matt asks, zeroing in on the sudden tension in the room. 

“It will be,” Shiro promises, steering Keith out onto the front porch, grabbing both their jackets on the way. 

“Wha-” Keith begins, but Shiro drops the jacket over his head. Grudgingly, he slips it on. It’s cold enough outside to need it, anyway. 

“Sorry,” Shiro says, sounding anything but. “I didn’t want to wait to talk about it.” 

“Impulsive as ever,” Keith smiles a little. 

“You know me.” Shiro takes Keith’s cold hand between his own- prosthetic running warm from the circuitry beneath. “Or maybe you don’t. I don’t want you to go another minute without knowing everything I think and feel about you. Maybe that’s stupid, but-” 

“No, Shiro.” Keith disagrees. “I want to know.” 

“Okay.” Shiro smiles, a small fleeting thing. “I love you.” 

Keith softens. “I love you too.” 

“I was so lost. _So lost._ I don’t know what made me snap and get out of there, but the only thing I knew was I had to leave and that I wanted you with me. Now things are changing again… we’re both finding things we want out of life for ourselves and we can have that.” Shiro tugs Keith in a little closer. “I want all that. I want to study biomedical engineering and I want you to go to art school and I want us to be together the whole time.” 

“Shiro…” Everything is a bit muzzy, and it isn’t just the tears he had to blink away. 

“Hey,” Shiro says softly, glancing up. “It’s snowing.” Keith shivers. “Desert baby,” Shiro sounds fond. “Let’s get you inside.” 

“I…” Keith clears his throat, voice thick. “I want that too, you know? You make me feel like I can have things. Like I can do anything, so long as I’m with you.” 

“Yeah,” Shiro agrees, brushing the hair from Keith’s face, tenderly tucking it behind one ear. “So let’s stay together.” 

“Okay,” Keith agrees, like it was ever a question. And even though it’s kind of cold, they stay out there just a few minutes more to enjoy the snow before they go in to the people they love.


End file.
